Reliving the memory
by time-heals-all-wounds
Summary: It's Oz's seventh day in creating the illusion of the Wizard, but when a little girl visits him in a wheelchair, how can he act knowing that he can't give her what she wants?


Oz stood behind the curtain and straightened out his jacket.

Day seven, it was his seventh day allowing the public to see him. He had people travelling from afar to visit him, and witness his greatest illusion yet. He remembered everyone who visited him, ranging the munchhkins, with their art of singing; down to the small survivors of china town. Each one so delicate, Oz had to be careful not to frighten them with his illusion in case one of them was to shatter.

So today he didn't know what he was expecting, with a crooked smile he glanced down his chest. There laid one of his many offerings he had received, but this one was by far his favourite. It was of simple design, a gold necklace in the shape of his hat he had once worn it had the name Wizard, engraved in emerald. He had made the reputation to wear his favourite top hat before he gave it to Finley, and they all seemed to recognize this.

Knuck's instrument sounded off in the distance, warning him the first person was approaching. Tucking the necklace safely under his shirt he flipped the switch on the wall, roaring the illusion into life he stared into the light. And waited patiently for the first person to arrive.

After a couple minutes of waiting he frowned, the person still hadn't arrived. Taking a risk, he peeked out of the curtain. The room was empty. He looked across to the door, unless it was Knuck goofing about. He reached to turn off his illusion, but paused by the pulling of the door handle.

His eyes widened slightly, recovering the quickest he could he waited; gazing into the bright light he heard the door pull open to its limit. He heard the tapping of footsteps across the throne floor, each step took with caution. It wasn't long however, until the steps were companied with the turning of wheels. Curiously, he opened up his illusion further. Allowing him to see his audience clearer he wasn't expecting what he saw.

Glinda, the good witch of the south; was guiding a little girl in a wheelchair. She was young, her chocolate brown hair falling down against her shoulders she held a look of worry on her young beautiful face. No wonder they took so long to arrive, the girl was in a wheel chair. And he thought Knuck was pulling his leg.

Putting himself into his character, he smiled down at Glinda first; then across to the little girl.

Trying to not scare the girl more than she already was he said warmly, "greetings."

The girl, who looked no more than eight, gave out a startled gasp. Oz held back his wince, that wasn't a good start. Trying his best to soothe her, he looked to Glinda; who he knew had a talent when it came to winning over children.

She merely had to look at Oz's pleading eyes before she knew; she looked down at the little girl encouragingly.

"Myra, there's nothing to be scared of. He's the wizard; he'll happily listen to what you've got the say."

The girl, who Oz now knew as Myra; gave Glinda a worried look. Overcoming her fears, she took a small swallow and slowly, she began to push the wheelchair forward with her hands.

Oz grinned in praise at her bravery, "Well done Myra." His voice boomed, she looked up at him in surprise. Behind the curtain, Oz was hitting himself for his simple mistake of being too loud. Luckily however, Myra stayed where she was. "Now little Myra, what can I do for you?"

Little Myra hesitated, twiddling with her fingers in her lap she glanced up at him. "I-, I don't have anything to offer." She murmured quietly.

Oz chuckled, "My dear girl, you don't have to offer me anything."

"But," she paused biting her lip, "but I was told people needed to offer gifts before they got one in return."

Oz frowned in confusion, "What gift would that be?"

"To make me walk."

Oz froze, that's what the little girl wanted. To be able to walk, a simple thing many others took for granted. The most depressing thing was, no matter how much Oz wanted to; he couldn't help this little girl. He wasn't that type of Wizard; he wasn't the wizard Myra believed.

"Can you make me walk?" she asked again, quieter this time.

His eyes saddened down at her, looking deep into her blue eyes he watched as her small belief of being able to walk was crushed, crushed into nothing. It was as if he was looking into his earlier memories; of the girl back in Kansas who too wanted him to make her walk.

_I believe in you_

The girl's voice echoed in his mind, the desperation in her voice was unbearable. He had been hoping that was the last time he was going cause such misery in a little girl, but he was now reliving it.

"Myra, I'm not that kind of Wizard." He said quietly, his fears building Myra's eyes began to water.

He stood still, and fought the urge to rip open the curtain and comfort the little girl. If he did, his greatest illusion would be broken and the belief of the Wizard being a spirit would be lost throughout Oz. Clenching his fists, he shook his head. He couldn't unmask his identity; he couldn't also just stand there and break the little girl's heart.

"Do you want to know a secret Myra?"

Confused, Myra wiped away a tear with a nod.

"Back where I came from, there's this belief of a greater person than me. A person so great that he created everything we know and love. The ground, the sky, the water and wind, even you and me; he invented it all.

"Now he's not one to brag, but he loved everyone. Absolutely everyone, so he made everyone unique. That's why some are tall, some are short, some are munchkins and some are china people. Because everyone is special."

Myra glanced down at her legs, running her fingers gently over them she glanced back up at him. "I'm special?"

Oz nodded, "Of course you are, that's why I can't make you walk; because he made you so special it would be a crime to change that."

For the first time that Myra's been in the throne room, she smiled a wide smile. "Thank you Wizard."

"No, thank you Myra, for allowing me to meet a special girl."

Oz might not be the wizard he is claimed to be throughout Oz, but he could never feel more like the part than now. This, was now the greatest gift he was given yet; to make little Myra happy for who she was.

"Good bye Wizard." Said Myra, now being assisted to the door by Glinda.

"Good bye Myra."

Watching her leave, she quickly turned to face Oz; with one last question burning in her mind. "What was he called? The one who created everyone?"

Oz smiled, "He was called the Almighty."


End file.
